Mollywood (37 page)

That day at the hospital I’d truly thought I was going to lose my mind. Facing such similar choices with Molly that I had with Jess had driven me to the edge of my sanity. Dr. Greene had arrived shortly after my panic attack began in Dr. Franklin’s office. If Tamryn had not had the foresight to call him, I’m not sure what I would have done.

He was able to help me through in his usual heavy handed fashion.

“I don’t think I can make the call.” I shook my head.

“Joe. This is a no-brainer.” Dr. Green’s voice was stern and loud. “What would Molly do?”

My eyes shot to his and I nodded in understanding. I immediately gave the okay and the medical staff leapt into action. Tamryn and Dr. Greene took me back to the waiting area. Tamryn fielded questions from both sides of the family while I sat to the side with Dr. Greene.

“I’m proud of you, Joe.” He stated quietly, and I looked up at him in utter disbelief.

“Why in God’s name would you say that?” I blinked stupidly at him, and he leaned forward, fixing his stern gaze on me.

“You’ve kept yourself in check. You’re letting these people do their job. It shows growth.” He sat back and picked up a magazine. The doc and I had already discussed the scenario of a complicated delivery, and I had agreed that I would be in no condition to be in the room if any problems arose. It was one thing to have the conversation in the mellow ambiance of his office, and quite another to be told I wasn’t allowed in because she was under general sedation. The thought of them slicing into my girl made my head throb. Though I was irritated to have the doc here analyzing me at a time like this, I could see that, as always, he had a point.

Waiting was pure torture, but at least I wasn’t alone. Robin couldn’t do it either. She paced the floor, clearly shaken by the experience, and Mason and Mac took her outside to smoke. They came back with a large cup of coffee for me, and she launched into a detailed blow by blow of the ambulance ride that oddly made me feel better. Though her terminology was way over my head with talk of post-ictal states and general anesthesia, it was good to know someone I trusted could speak the language.

An hour later, Dr. Franklin came out and advised that the babies were in incubators in the NICU, but were both doing well. Molly was in recovery and though she was still asleep, she was stable and her blood pressure had already improved. They’d know more when they got her post op labs back.

I was pretty shaky as a nurse took me by the arm led me down the hall to the NICU. She had me wash my hands about three times and gown up and then led me to a chair which I gratefully folded myself into. Two nurses wheeled a pair of rectangular plastic things over to me. Peeking inside, I saw a blue swaddled baby in one and a pink swaddled baby in another.

“Can I hold them?” My voice caught and the words came out in a whisper.

“Of course Mr. Jensen.” A matronly dishwater blond with a severe nose, motioned to the two other nurses flanking the babies. With practiced ease, they gently removed them and slowly approached me, placing a baby in each of my arms.

The warmth of the little bundles surprised me. Eagerly peering down at them, I met my daughter’s eyes, and a yawn twisted her lips showing bright pink gums. The breathtaking beauty of the little angel nestled against me was unreal. A coo pulled my attention to my son and I looked just as he spit his tongue out at me in a very Molly-like way.

“Hey there you two. I’m your daddy.” The nurses had withdrawn a bit and I whispered the words, afraid talking too loud might scare the little darlings. Both of them looked at me with the most amazing expression on their faces, as if they recognized my voice. I sat, feeling the sting of happy tears. I could hardly breathe I was so caught up in the enormity of the moment.

My children. Safe and sound. Molly. Safe and resting.

The nurses let me hold my children for what seemed like far too short a time. I made the most of every second, memorizing their faces as if we were on borrowed time. I whispered many promises to them, mostly about how I’d never let anything happen to them. When the nurse finally insisted they needed to go back under the warmers, I reluctantly obliged and hurried down to Molly’s room. I spent the next couple of hours watching my girl sleep. Seeing her beautiful face battered like it was, broke my heart. She had a split lip and two butterfly bandages on her eyebrow. That eye was black and blue and painful to look at, but it was a major relief to hear the encouraging beeps from her monitors. I asked if I could see the babies again, but Molly’s nurse told me that I needed to wait for the NICU nurses to get them settled in.

“We’re taking care of them, Mr. Jensen, right now you need to be with your wife.” She looked so serious for someone so young. I didn’t have the heart to blurt out that Molly wasn’t my wife.

Dr. Greene stopped in and sat with me for a while after that, but I finally told him to go. He looked pensively in Molly’s direction, and then spoke.

“Congrats, Joe. You’ll make a great father.” He sounded different and I looked in his direction. His eyes gleamed in the light and he cleared his throat before he spoke. “Call me if you need me, okay?” He waited just long enough for me to nod before slipping out the door. It was an uncharacteristic bit of emotion from the doc and I was touched by it. I sat there alone…just listening to Molly breathe. The rhythmic sound lulled me into a doze.

“Joe?” Her shaky voice snapped me to alertness. Her confused expression as she glanced around the room tugged at my heart. Leaning over, I took her hand gently in mine and pressed my lips to her moist forehead.

“Thank God, little girl. You gave me a hell of a scare. How are you feelin’?” Molly blinked vacantly and tried to sit up. I put my hands on her shoulders and shook my head. “Stay still baby, you need to rest.”.

“Where are we? What’s going on?” Reaching up, I brushed her hair away from her bruised and swollen face.

“We’re at Breckinridge. They brought you in after you had a seizure. Do you remember anything?” Wrinkling her brow, she stared at me in terror, her hand going to her diminished abdomen.

“Oh God! Joe! The babies! What happened to the babies?”

“Dr. Myers delivered them. She took them C-section. They’re in the NICU.” She gasped and burst into tears, I bent down to embrace her. “It’s okay… honey, it’s okay. The pediatrician said it’s just a precaution, They’re small, but they’re both doing fine.”

I let her cry it out, holding her in my arms with every protective instinct in me firing at once. I figured she needed to process everything I’d been struggling with for the last few hours, and I knew I needed to shut up and just be present. When she started to wind down, I whispered in her ear.

”I was so scared I was going to lose all of you.” Her arms tightened around me and I let relief wash over me.

I spent the next 24 hours bouncing back and forth between Molly’s room and the babies. I held my children and helped with their first baths, making sure to snap tons of pictures with my phone for Molly. Molly studied every one carefully through her taped together glasses which she’d broken during her first seizure. She forwarded the pictures to Stacy, knowing she could count on her to show them to the world.

On one of my trips over to the NICU, I was surprised to discover my father and mother in the twin’s room, rocking them in side by side rockers. They exchanged a nervous glance when they saw me, but their proud smiles won out.

“Joseph, they’re absolutely darling.” My mother gushed.

“Thank you.” I replied, running a hand over Logan’s unruly hair.

“We love the names you chose. Very dignified.” My father said, and though my first instinct was to sniff at the pretentious comment and question its subtext, I decided to take his compliment at face value.

“We thought so.” I remarked.

The following morning, Dr. Myers declared that Molly’s rebound after delivery was impressive. She refused to remove Molly’s catheter, but her nurse and I were allowed to push her over to the NICU on a stretcher so that she could have her first look at Logan and Eva. Eva was wide awake and in the middle of a diaper change, so the nurse brought her over first.

“Hi, Eva. Molly drew out the “e” in our daughter’s name and sucked in a loud breath at the sight of her.” Oh, Joe! She’s so little.”

“Five pounds, one ounce.” I informed her, as I took Eva from the nurse and placed her gently in Molly’s arms.

“She’s hungry.” The nurse stated, handing Molly a premade bottle of formula.

The sunny smiled that bloomed on Molly’s face was pure heaven. “She looks just like you.”

“Poor thing.” I snickered, reaching out to stroke Eva’s impossibly soft cheek. I thought she looked like a bald, grumpy old man, so I could see the resemblance.

“They’re beautiful.” The nurse cooed, swaddling Logan and carrying him to Molly. I helped her place a pillow on her lap and Robin assisted her as she took our son in her other arm.

“Oh my!” She giggled, her eyes flying wide. “He
is
bigger!”

“And
he
looks like you.” I added, stealing Eva away from her, when she started to fuss.

“Look at all that hair.” Molly reached out her newly freed arm to stroke Logan’s dark thick faux hawk. “He’s enormous! How much did he weigh?” Molly asked, looking longingly into Logan’s curious eyes.

“Six pounds.” I spouted. “You did good, baby girl.”

“Can you imagine how big he would have been if he was full term?” She gasped, kissing Logan on top of his head. He screwed up his face and his tiny fists flailed out of his blanket. Molly’s radiant smile as she stared down at his beet red face was the most beautiful I had ever seen.

The following week was a marathon of jumping at every alarm that sounded in the babies’ room and changing endless diapers. Molly drove herself mad trying to get the babies to breastfeed. When she didn’t have one of them at the breast, she was attached to the double electric pump. On several different occasions, she fell fast asleep while holding one of the twins. Terrified she’d drop them, I stood vigil beside her, nudging her encouragingly.

Seven days after her surgery, Dr. Myers wrote the order to discharge Molly. Unfortunately, the pediatrician wanted to keep the babies for a few more days. I brought Robin back to the NICU with me to translate, and she explained that Logan’s oxygen saturation was a little below normal when they took him off his O2. They also wanted Eva to put on a tiny bit more weight before discharging her.

When we broke the news to Molly, she didn’t take it well. She marched straight over to the NICU nurses and begged them to find somewhere in the hospital for her to stay. The nurses explained that there were no on sight accommodations for attendant mothers, but assured her that she could come any time, day or night. Molly completely broke down and I was afraid her blood pressure might get too high or that she might pop a stitch. She’d done the same thing a few days before when they’d taken Logan to circumcise him. I’d been so concerned about her reaction that I’d nearly called the whole thing off. In the end, she stayed with Eva and insisted I go with Logan. I did as she asked, though witnessing that procedure wasn’t something I was in a hurry to repeat.

The nurses finally paged Dr. Myers, who came in to give Molly a pep talk and write her an additional prescription for anxiety. “You need to go home and get some rest, Molly. They’re in good hands. Keep pumping so you can feed those babies, but go sleep in your own bed.”

“She’s right.” Robin agreed, showing professional solidarity. “Between Joe’s family and ours, there’ll be people here to hold those babies around the clock. The best thing you can do for them right now is to rest up and heal.”

The sun was setting when we finally pulled into our driveway. Betty had planned to have balloons in the yard and a welcome home party, but once I got word the babies weren’t being discharged, I phoned her and told her to call it off. I knew Molly wasn’t in the frame of mind to have company.

The house felt unnaturally quiet after nearly a week in the hospital. Robin gave me a heads up that everyone had stayed behind to clean up from Molly’s shower and that they’d had the rug and couch upholstery cleaned. Apparently Molly hadn’t only bled on the rug during her seizure, but she’d also wet herself.

“Every one of the kids is going to need therapy.” Robin had drawled the day after the C-section. Tamryn, who’d stopped by to take me down for breakfast, had nodded emphatically.

“I’m coaching Jamie not to say anything to Molly about it. You know how she is. No filter whatsoever.”

“Gee, I wonder where she gets that?” I’d replied, and her eyes slid sideways. Robin chuckled and Tamryn smirked and tossed a napkin at me.

Everything was spotless when we flipped on the lights. After a quick once over, we discovered leftovers from the shower in the fridge and all of the baby presents were in the nursery.

“You hungry?” I asked her, but she just shook her head woefully.” Molly, you’ve barely eaten since your surgery. Dr. Myers said you need protein to heal. You have to eat something.”

“I just want them home, Joe.” Her voice wavered, but she crossed her arms and the set of her jaw was reminiscent of the fierce girl I used to know.

“I know, baby girl.” I wrapped my arms around her and breathed a sigh of relief when she hugged me back.